by Tricia Goyer
The umbrella did fine, and though my shoes are muddy they will get cleaned, and my feet will soon be dry and warm.
One of my favorite things about walking is to see the light filling the windows of my friends’ homes. Ja, it’s only a few months since I’ve been in West Kootenai, but the friendships I’ve made are blooming. This Saturday I’m invited to a quilting bee at the Yoders’ place. It’s been over six years since I quilted, but I have a feeling the women will be patient with me. They’re gut in that way. Their eyes reflect the goodness of our Lord on ordinary days during ordinary tasks.
Lydia wrote for a few minutes more and then thought of a quote her teacher Miss Yoder had taught her once. It seemed to summarize what she’d been feeling.
She wrote the new quote on the blackboard: “Friendship is a lamp which shines most brightly when all else is dark.”
Maybe the relationships she experienced now—with Dat, with Gideon, with her neighbors—shined brighter because of the dark times she’d walked through. Lydia had a feeling they did.
She held her breath in eager anticipation as the students began to arrive. Yet before the first hour was through, she was already counting the minutes until the first recess break.
The newness of their teacher had worn off, and while all the kids wiggled in their seats, it was the oldest boys who caused the most trouble. Part men—mostly boys—Andy and David whispered about hunting season to come while Lydia was trying to read a story aloud. They sketched pictures of guns and bullets on their math homework. Lydia knew their influence was rubbing off on the other kids when the younger boys broke off their erasers into the shape of guns and started chasing each other around the room with them during their indoor recess.
At lunch, Lydia was just about to raise her voice and ban all talk of hunting when Gideon walked through the door.
“You’ve come to rescue me.” She hurried to him with her lunch pail swinging at her side. “I’ll pay you in chocolate chip cookies if you go back and get your ropes and halters for these boys.”
“That bad?”
She shrugged. “I suppose they aren’t horrible, but I can’t imagine two more months of this until hunting season starts.”
Gideon’s eyes twinkled. “I imagine that would get them excited, especially since ‘hunter safety’ starts tonight.”
“Is that it? I was blaming the rain.” Lydia placed an open palm on her forehead. “It makes sense. But the whole room has been disrupted this morning.”
Gideon scanned the room. “Which one is the problem?”
“Well, all of the boys are caught up in the act, but…” Lydia looked around the room at the children eating at their desks. “I’d have to say that David Sommer is the one who gets the others started.”
“Him?” Gideon pointed to the tall boy with blond hair and hazel eyes.
“Ja.”
Before she knew what was happening, Gideon strode across the room to David.
“Son, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The boy paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Uh, yessir.”
They moved to the front covered porch, leaving the door cracked open. Lydia hung around the back, straightening up the kids’ boots and backpacks, trying to hear what Gideon was going to say.
Gideon squatted before David. “David, that was a full classroom back there, wasn’t it?” Gideon’s voice mixed with the sound of rain as it carried through the doorway.
“Ja.”
“Full of what?”
“Books, desks, kids.”
Lydia could imagine him shrugging.
“Big kids or little kids?”
“Little. All smaller than me. ‘Cept for Andy. We’re the same age.”
The rain let up some, and the plinking on the metal roof lessened, making it easier for Lydia to hear. “Do they look up to you like I’m looking up to you now?”
“Yessir.”
“Do you think they respect you?”
“Uh, yessir.”
She glanced out the window. Gideon’s back was to her, but Lydia could see David’s nose wrinkled up. He eyed Gideon and wiggled from side to side as if worry scampered up his spine like a rogue lizard.
“Do you think that if you climbed to the top of the roof and wanted to jump, they’d want to try it too?”
“Yessir, some of them.”
“But you wouldn’t do that because you know that some would get hurt.”
“No, sir, of course I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, your attitude is just as interesting to them. Those kids in there are looking up to you. You can bet they’re watching how you treat Miss Wyse. You’re leading them, son, and they’ll be sure to follow too.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
Lydia stepped closer to the window, curious as to where the conversation was going.
“So are you going to be a gut example, David?”
“Yes sir.”
“Danki. I knew I could count on you.”
There was movement, and Lydia stepped away from the window so Gideon wouldn’t see her spying on them. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she imagined Gideon standing and patting the young man’s shoulder.
“Sir, is Miss Wyse your sweetheart?”
A smile filled Lydia’s face at the question, and she covered her mouth with her hand to halt her laughter.
“Vell, I guess you can say that. She is pretty special.”
“My sister Marianna was right. She said she saw you looking at Miss Wyse the other day at church and your eyes were as big as Mrs. Carash’s prize tomatoes.”
Gideon chuckled. “That must be big, all right, and you can tell your sister she’s pretty smart.”
Lydia heard footsteps. She turned and hurried to the front of the room toward the chalkboard, but it was too late. The door swung open and Gideon and David entered. Behind her, Gideon cleared his throat. She paused her steps and looked back over her shoulder.
“Caught you!” David laughed and pointed, then hurried back to be with his friends. He wore a soft smile as he passed her. Lydia knew David would probably try to be kinder and more respectful, and his trying would be helpful indeed.
“Finish up your lunch, children. Start cleaning up your board games. Your lunch break is over in five minutes.”
With hesitant steps she approached Gideon. “Ja, as large as tomatoes.” She placed a hand over her heart and then swallowed hard. “A gut description.”
“I didn’t think you were listening.”
“I’m glad I was.”
“Really, why’s that?”
“Because it’s gut to know I’m not the only one feeling jest so. I’m glad to know you have a sweetheart, and it’s me. Now…” She placed her hand on her hips. “I know you just made my day easier, but what did you really come for?”
“I wanted to see if you’d like to go on a short hike—maybe Saturday? Edgar claims it’ll be our last good day before the cold days of fall claim their place.”
Lydia’s lips pursed. “I’d love to, but I already promised to go to a quilting bee.”
“Sunday afternoon, then?”
“Ja, that sounds like a plan, but after listening to these boys’ stories, I’m not sure if I want to venture out in those woods. And look at this.” She moved to her desk and Gideon followed. Lydia smiled as she picked up Josiah Sommer’s multiplication sheet. He had written on the top: If you do hike bring bear spray, make nose, and don’t go alone.
Gideon chuckled and lowered his voice. “‘Make nose’?”
“I’m sure he meant ‘noise’ but I think they’re trying to scare me.”
Gideon scanned the youngsters who chatted as they cleaned up their board games. “And why would they do that?”
“Maybe because they know I’m not from around here and they think it’ll be funny to scare the teacher.”
“There is that.” Gideon winked. “Or I could have paid them to scare you…so that when we do go on a h
ike, you’ll stay right by my side and cling to me the whole way up the mountain.”
Lydia laughed and shook her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised, Gideon. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
CHAPTER
27
Only two days had passed and Lydia was already wishing that Gideon would return. But it wasn’t the boys who were causing trouble this time. Instead it was the littlest ones in the group. It had started when Lydia began working with the two youngest girls, teaching them to write complete sentences. They’d mastered their letters. Wasn’t this a good next step?
Ellie stared at the paper. Instead of writing with her pencil, she put it down and watched it roll off her desk. Behind her one of the boys snickered.
Lydia turned and glared at Josiah. “Please don’t encourage your sister.”
“Sorry, Miss Wyse.”
“Ellie, can you pick up the pencil, please?”
Ellie shook her head. “Ne.”
“Can you speak English, please?”
Ellie folded her arms and lowered her head onto them. “Ne.”
“Is there a reason you don’t want to do your work?”
Ellie shrugged. “Wonnernaus.”
“‘Wonnernaus’?” Lydia cocked an eyebrow. Silence echoed in the room. She didn’t hear the sound of one pencil writing on paper. Lydia cleared her throat. “Yes, it is my business. I’m yer teacher.”
Ellie didn’t budge, and Lydia closed her eyes, praying for wisdom. After a minute passed she came up with an idea.
Lydia rose and went to the supply cupboard. Inside there was a half-used bag of rice. She guessed the other part of it had been used for a craft. Lydia tore off a large piece of waxed paper and took the paper and the rice to the desks where Ellie and Evelyn sat. With all eyes on her, she placed the paper on the floor and proceeded to pour the rice onto it. Small gasps erupted around the room. It was only then that Ellie lifted her head to see what her teacher was up to.
Lydia sat on the floor, and with her hands she spread the rice into an even layer over the waxed paper. Satisfied with the result, she picked up the pencil and lifted it toward Ellie.
“Girls, how would you like to write your sentences in the rice?”
Evelyn’s eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. “Ja!” But Ellie seemed unmoved.
Evelyn sat down with her pencil. A large smile filled her face as she wrote her name.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try, Ellie?” Lydia didn’t push. She didn’t scold. She just waited.
After a moment Ellie shrugged, and Lydia handed her the pencil. With slow movements Ellie rose from her desk and sat next to Evelyn. As if seeing their world was in order again, the rest of the students went back to work.
Lydia rose and returned to her desk. She sat. Her hands trembled, and a sinking feeling overcame her. What had she been thinking to want this job—to accept this job? The future of these children was in her hands. Their parents expected them to learn, not only about school subjects, but about respect and working as part of a community.
She pulled out a pile of papers and shuffled through them, not knowing what she was looking for. What if Ellie’s defiance continued? What if the boys started to act up again? Suddenly the weight of responsibility seemed too much to bear.
“Class, get out your spelling sheets and look over your words. I’ll be testing you in ten minutes.”
Julia Yoder raised her hand. “Miss Wyse, today is Thursday. We always do our spelling tests on Friday.”
“Yes, Julia, I know, but…I’ve decided to change things today.” Her throat grew tight. “Ten minutes should be enough time to review your words. You’ve had three days already to practice them at home. Don’t you think that’s fair?”
“Yes, Miss Wyse.” Julia lowered her head. Her shoulders shook slightly.
Seeing the girl’s reaction made matters even worse.
“Who trusted me with this job?” Lydia mumbled to herself. She thought of her birth mother, Grace. How had she done it? Had teaching school been different almost thirty years ago? Lydia guessed not. Things didn’t change much in an Amish community. Grace would have had the same struggles and problems. Had she turned to the community for support? Had she turned to God for help?
Deep down Lydia knew becoming the teacher wasn’t just about the children, it was about her. It was as if God tapped her on the shoulder, “See, you’re gonna need others—need Me to pull this off.” Lydia thought back to the first few weeks of school. She’d poured everything into teaching and had done a good job, but…
God’s Spirit spoke to her heart: Don’t make this about them versus you, Lydia. Remind them that you’re all in this—the walk of faith—together.
As if a fog lifted, Lydia knew what to do. She moved to the chalkboard. “Actually, class, Julia is right. We will do our spelling test tomorrow. Instead I want to talk about challenges. My challenges as a teacher, and yours as a student. The year is just getting started, and things won’t always be easy, but I want to talk about this quote we have up here. Julia, can you read it?”
Dark-haired Julia sat straighter in her seat. “‘Friendship is a lamp which shines most brightly when all else is dark.’”
“Very good.” Lydia smiled at her class. “I’m not sure if you know it, but when we grow and interact with the world, we’ll find enemies as well as friends. Not always those who want to hurt us physically, but those who consider our path foolish. Or who think our God is not real.”
She looked around the room. Children’s eyes widened. “Ja, it’s true. That’s why it’s so important to know what we believe and to trust God.” Lydia placed a hand over her heart.
Charlie Sommer’s hand shot into the air.
“Yes, Charlie.”
“Is it true that you used to live in the Englisch world?”
“Ja, I did.”
“My uncle says that you shouldn’t be teaching…because your mind is too full of knowledge and prideful thoughts.” It was Andy Shelter who said those words, and they were like a jab to Lydia’s heart. “But my mem told him that yer a great teacher, and she was going to smack his head hoping he’d get some smarts,” Andy continued. Laughter spilled from his lips.
“That’s a perfect example, Andy,” Lydia said, trying not to allow the words of that boy’s uncle to bother her. “It would have meant a lot to me for your mem to tell me I was a great teacher, but her words mean even more because of the dark opinion told to her.” She looked around. “Does that make sense, class?”
Students’ heads nodded, and even the youngest girls seemed to be paying attention.
Well done. She felt—more than heard—the soft whisper to her soul.
“All right, class. Now everyone get out your papers with leaf photos. We’re going to discuss the upcoming leaf collections.” All the children, even little Ellie, obeyed without question, and there was a special sense of unity in the room that hadn’t been there before. They’d walked through a struggle together and had come to the other side.
Lydia smiled as she walked over to the leaf poster, hoping this day’s impromptu lesson would be remembered long after these students learned to multiply and spell. She just hoped that during the school days to come there would be more moments of light—and that not too many dark days loomed ahead.
CHAPTER
28
Dear Gideon,
I know I haven’t written much since you’ve been gone. Things are always busy here. Your sister Susie had a baby boy, and they named him Elam. Dat had been bugging me for days to see how you’re doing. Now that you know ‘bout what happened up on that mountain, he wonders if you shouldn’t come home. Maybe you’ve had enough of the mountain air?
Dat has tossed and turned for days, and I know you’re the reason. He wonders if people will still treat you well when they discover who you are. Personally, I doubt very many are around who were there at the time. Do many people know that you are the little boy lost, or jest that one man? If anyone else
asks, jest tell them you don’t know about the occurrences of that day. That’s the truth, as the good Lord knows. Dat made sure you didn’t know as a way of protecting you. And his father heart longs to protect you still—even from this distance.
Write soon and tell us when you’ll be able to come,
Mem
Gideon crumpled up the letter and tossed it on the ground of the corral. He couldn’t believe his parents. First his dat for being worried about what people thought, and then his mem for writing the letter. He was twenty-four years old—an adult. He didn’t know if any of the other folks had figured it out, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d been just a little kid, right?
He bent over and picked up the letter, tucking it into his pants pocket. Just then he heard whistling behind him. Gideon turned to see Lydia strolling toward him.
“Hey, there!” She waved. “I was hoping you’d be out here.”
She neared, and Gideon opened his arms. He was surprised that she stepped into his embrace. But just as quickly she backed up again. For an Amish woman he wouldn’t expect any less.
“Did you have a gut day at school?”
Lydia let out a heavy sigh and shrugged.
“That good, huh?” He forced a menacing glare. “Do I need to come and have a talk with someone again?”
“Oh, dear no!” Lydia giggled. “I think she’d try to hide under my apron if she saw your stern face.”
“She?”
“Ja, Ellie Sommer. She’s six, I believe…and something got into her today.” Lydia shook her head. “But thankfully we all made it through the day.” She stepped forward and reached a hand toward Blue, patiently waiting. “I don’t want to spend all our time on my day. I want to know how your day was.”
“It was gut. I put a harness on Blue—to prepare him for pulling a buggy next—and we walked down the road a bit.”
“Really?” Lydia clapped her hands together. “Ja!” Her face glowed with excitement, warming Gideon’s heart.